


The Second Bard

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-27
Updated: 2006-02-27
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: When Movie Night is unexpectedly cancelled because of damage to the store of films, Lt Reed provides an unusual solution.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Response to a Shakespeare Challenge.  


* * *

"Oh bloody hell! This is beyond a joke."

Sub-Commander T'Pol raised an eyebrow at the usually staid and composed Armoury Officer. She really could not see what all the fuss was about. Commander Tucker had managed to nag and coerce her into reluctantly accompanying him to what the crew had dubbed 'Movie Night' only to find that the ritual had been forestalled by a circumstance none of them could have foreseen. Tact dictated that she hide how relieved she felt though the opportunity to spend time with the Commander off duty was not an unpleasant one.

"I was not aware, lieutenant, that anyone was laughing."

Commander Tucker bit his lip and just looked at Malcolm. Ensign Hoshi Sato was in the row behind them sitting with Travis Mayweather. Most people were already grumbling as they filed out of the hall, disappointment evident in their voices. Lt Reed gave an overly dramatic sigh. "You don't understand, T'Pol. It was a classic. Well, not exactly Shakespeare, but still a classic."

A snigger from the row behind made him frown as Hoshi piped up with her three cents worth. "How can anyone call _Quatermass and the Pit_ a classic? I've never seen a hoakier film. So corny you could smother it in butter and eat it."

Malcolm huffed. Trip lost his battle to hold back a smile, the smile quickly graduating to a full blown grin. 

"You've seen the film before I take it?" Queried Malcolm stiffly.

Hoshi nodded. "Yeah. It was John Mills wasn't it?"

Despite his foul mood he began to brighten up. "What did you think of it?"

She gave him her sweetest smile to soften the blow. "Corny. A bit slow. And the creature at the end?" She rolled her eyes. "How anyone could find it scary is beyond me."

"I'll have you know it was considered a veritable gem in its' day."

"Yeah, well that was then Malcolm and this is now." Said Trip. "The fact is the film store has been destroyed. We not only lost "Quatermass and the Pit" we lost "Casablanca". Not to mention all those old war movies..."

"And horror films." Added Hoshi.

"I like the monster movies." Grinned Travis. "Sign me up for Godzilla any day!"

Something sparked in Lt Reed's eyes. The others looked at him suspiciously. Malcolm smiled slowly. "Sign you up? That's a good idea."

"Uh oh," Said Trip doing his Han Solo impression. "I have a _bad_ feeling about this."

The Armoury Officer gave them each the benefit of a very benign grin. Trip definitely wanted to be elsewhere. 

"What do you suppose life is going to be like on Enterprise without Movie Night?" Malcolm asked.

"Boring." Quipped Travis.

Hoshi nodded. "It's not as if we have many alternatives. It's fun. A chance to relax and unwind."

The Vulcan Sub-Commander resisted the urge to cheer at the end of Movie Night. She could see by the sideways look she gave Trip that the Chief Engineer got an inordinate amount of happiness from the foolish past time. She omitted to admit to herself that seeing him happy gave her some not inconsiderable satisfaction. His animated discourse was a most beneficial side effect. His enthusiasm bathing her in a warmth that she found most pleasing. Not that she would ever admit it to him of course. They rose from their seats, not surprised to find they were the last to leave. Lt Reed had a thoughtful look on his face.

"Perhaps we should consider making our own entertainment?"

Trip gave him a wary look. Travis grinned, happy as a sand boy. "I like the sound of that!"

"You like the sound of everything, Travis." Quipped Trip.

"No, I don't."

Hoshi butted in before an argument could start. "What did you have in mind?"

"Charades." Said Travis happily. "I like charades."

Everyone ignored him. They were looking at Malcom. "Why don't we put on a play?"

The Chief Engineer almost choked. "Are ya kiddin' me? Why would we want to do that?"

"For fun."

Travis was nodding energetically. "Hey, that's a good idea..."

Trip sighed. Hoshi grinned at his expression. T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back and frowned at them. "A play?"

"Yes. I rather think we might choose something from Shakespeare."

A horrified look crossed the Chief Engineer's face. "Shakespeare is ANCIENT, Malcolm. Ancient is NOT fun."

"You're just afraid you'll have to dress up as a woman."

He could feel himself flush not so much with embarrassment but annoyance. "I am _not_ dressing upâ€”periodâ€”and that's that. If ya wanna go ahead and make a fool of yourself, be my guest."

"Where's your sense of adventure, Commander?"

Trip turned his head at the new voice, surprised to see Dr Phlox standing behind him with a smile on his face. In fact the doctor usually had a smile on his face. But this time he looked positively mischievous. That fact just made Trip feel crankier than ever. T'Pol was watching him closely. Intrigued by the strength of his reaction and curious about the 'play'. She looked at Lt Reed. "What would this 'play' entail?"

The Commander rolled his eyes and closed them with an inward groan. That Vulcan curiosity was something he could happily live without. He just knew it was going to get them into trouble.

* * *

Captain Archer had been surprised by Lt Reed's request then amused by the various reactions of his crew. Especially the growing discomfort of his Chief Engineer. For that reason alone he deliberately played into the Englishman's hands, enjoying his friend's doom-laden expression. It had been very quiet of late. No new planets to explore. No first contacts. No interesting phenomena to witness and record. All in all they needed a distraction. Something to propel them out of the lethargy of another nondescript week ploughing through space with only themselves for company. This could be just the tonic they required.

"Okay, Malcolm, this is your show so to speak. I am officially putting you in charge of the project."

Lt Reed grinned, nodded, then became serious. "Sir, if I am in charge of arranging the entertainment may I ask a favour?"

"What kind of favour?"

"Well um, it occurs to me that not everyone might want to join in."

The Captain deliberately avoided any eye contact with his Chief Engineer. He had a good idea where this was going. "I'd say that's a pretty accurate assessment, lieutenant."

"And we _all_ need to relax, sir. Let off steam."

"Agreed."

"I was therefore wondering, Captain, if I could be given the authority to pick whoever I want for the roles in the play."

Captain Archer's eyebrows rose. "You want to what?"

"It is my experience that if some people are allowed to do so they will hide themselves away and deliberately avoid joining in. That in itself would not be good for them."

The Captain frowned slightly not sure this was going to be such a good idea after all. "Lieutenant, are you suggesting I allow you to _compel_ members of the crew into being in this play?"

"I think compel is too strong a word, Captain."

"Coerce then?"

Trip had heard enough. Inwardly he was fuming. Outwardly the steam was all but coming out of his ears. T'Pol eyed him with interest but said nothing. Why was the Commander getting so worked up?

"That is the stupidest idea you've had in a long while, Malcolm, and you've have some doozies."

The Captain decided to try to calm things down a little. An angry Trip Tucker was not good for Enterprise. "You said a play, lieutenant. Do you have any particular play in mind?"

A gleam reflected in his eyes. "I was thinking of the Scottish Play, sir."

Captain Archer raised his eyebrows. Trip scowled at Malcolm. "Why'd'ya want to put on Macbeth of all things? Couldn't ya pick something happy?"

A look of horror stole over Malcolm's face then he turned on the Chief Engineer angrily. "Don't you know that's bad luck?"

Trip was mad as hell now. Had enough of humouring the Armoury Officer. "I don't care! It's a stupid idea and I want nothing to do with it!"

Without another word Commander Tucker stormed out of the Captain's Ready Room. Ensign Sato and Travis Mayweather turned their heads and watched the Chief Engineer make a noisy exit then looked at each other. Travis looked worried. Hoshi was grinning. Captain Archer looked thoughtful as he exited the Ready Room and took his Captain's chair. Lt Reed hesitated to take up his position at tactical. "Captain?"

Sub-Commander T'Pol stopped just a pace behind him. Whether out of politeness or to ensure she heard whatever he wanted to say was not immediately apparent.

"Yes, lieutenant?"

"With respect sir, you did not answer my question."

"That I should make this compulsory?"

Hoshi and Travis raised their eyebrows at each other. Neither daring to breath. Waiting for the Captain's response. He took a moment, staring off in the direction his Chief Engineer had gone. He slowly turned to look at his Armoury Officer. "I think this idea of yours could be just what we need but I don't think the Commander or anyone else for that matter should be forced to take part if they don't want to."

"But the whole point is to get _everybody_ involved, sir."

Captain Archer tilted his head slightly and gave him an even look. "Are you telling me you have 83 roles to fill?"

The lieutenant flushed slightly. Hoshi noticed it was quite a delightful shade of rose pink. "No, of course not Captain."

"Then I suggest you let the people who _want_ to be in the play be in it, lieutenant." He said gently but firmly. "This is supposed to be pleasure not an ordeal. Understood?"

The Armoury Officer dipped his head, suitably chastened. "Yes, sir."

 

"Lieutenant?"

His head snapped up again. Eyes fastened on his Captain. "Sir?"

"I'm sure that once the Commander knows he isn't going to be forced into doing anything he doesn't want to that he'll be only too glad to help in other ways."

The lieutenant frowned slightly. "Such as?"

"You're going to need props, lighting and so on. A gifted engineer could come in real handy."

He watched as the sour look on Lt Reed's face vanished to be slowly replaced by a smile. "Point taken, Captain."

* * *

The buzz around the ship was all about the play with speculation rife about who would be playing which role. Commander Tucker tried to block his ears but the excited chatter permeated every deck even making its' way into Engineering. He sighed and took on the muckiest jobs himself. Anything to avoid the constant and highly irritating subject matter occupying his staff. Was there no escape? Half in and half out of a conduit, he paused to wipe the sweat and grime out of his eyes and got back to work. Gritting his teeth and mumbling to himself. 

Sub-Commander T'Pol had been looking for him. Not only had he missed the last two meals in the Captain's Mess he had also been conspicuous by his absence in the Mess Hall. The Vulcan suspected he had been hiding away from Lt Reed and sneaking into the Mess Hall in the early hours to snag whatever food he was taking. What had started out as amusing was beginning to worry her. She did not like to see him unhappy.

"Commander, do you have a minute?"

Startled he just managed to avoid banging his head in the confined space. He wriggled out of the conduit and her eyebrow rose as she took in the state of him. "How can I help ya, Sub-Commander?"

He looked a little tired but at least the bulk of his anger was absent. "I wish to speak to you."

"What now? I'm a little busy, how about later?"

"You have not been available for the last two days." She stated calmly. "How much later would you like, Commander?"

_How about never?_ Thought Trip. He did not say that though. T'Pol was right. He could not hide away from everybody forever and it was not as if he was mad at the Sub-Commander. He sighed and decided now was as good a time as any to catch a break. "Okay. Just give me half an hour to clean up."

She nodded and to his surprise waited for him to put his tools back then fell into step with him as he handed over to Lt Hess. He gave her a sidelong look but did not speak until they were walking down the corridor towards his quarters. "So what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"I thought you wanted to clean up first, Commander?"

He chuckled slightly. "You win, T'Pol."

Once in his quarters he seemed to visibly relax. He flashed her a smile. "Help yourself to tea or whatever ya want, I won't be more'n a minute or two."

She nodded and watched him go into his small washroom. Listened to the shower being run and tried not to think of what he was doing in there. She used the time to look around, her eyes scanning every surface. Surprised to see quite an eclectic mix of items in his quarters. From the brightly coloured drawings of his nephews and neices to the photographs that dotted his desk and shelves. The rather ancient looking engineering volumes that sat side by side next to the latest schematics and desertations about warp drive theory. Her eye settled on an odd slim volume with the title 'The Pathways of Logic and Reason'. Her breath caught. Vulcan? But no, it couldn't be. It was an old book. A soft larconic voice eased into her thoughts with its' distinctive but gentle Southern drawl.

"That book was given to me by my great grand daddy."

She looked at him expectently. He smiled. A warm and gracious gift that pleased her. She watched him rub the towel through his wet hair then step up beside her, a hand reaching passed her ear to pick the slim volume up and hand it to her. "Here. Ya might find this interestin'."

His warm scent filled the air between them. Suddenly she could not get enough air into her lungs. Felt a little faint but would not have moved away from him if the room had been on fire. He gave her a quizzical look, a tinge of worry in his voice.

"T'Pol? Are ya alright?"

"Yes, I am fine thank you, Commander."

His smile widened at her ready reassurance but his eyes still grazed hers, looking to find that confirmation written in her darkening pupils. Warm water dribbled down the left side of his face from his wet hair. It caught her eye. She fixated on it in mute fascination. The slim silver trail glistening against his warm cheek. Without thinking she raised a hand and gently brushed it against the side of his face, wiping the water off his cheek and gently leaving her hand in situ. Her warmth cradling his heat. He held his breath. Transfixed. T'Pol seemed to be on another planet but a heightening awareness had sprung up between them. He found her hovering close to him, inches only parting them. He inhaled her breath, her scent. Saw something in her eyes that was intoxicating him, restricting the beat of his heart to fall into line with hers. Then soft plush lips touched his so gently. A warm pressure that made his senses dance and his nerves tingle with electricity.

He kissed her back. Gently, tentatively feeling his way with her. Not wanting to do anything to startle or offend her. After all she was a Vulcan. Thoughts of those spiders who ate their mate after intercourse popped into his head complete with suitably unpleasant colour images. He felt her hand desert his face to slide around the back of his neck drawing him closer. The kiss deepening. Her body now moulding to fit against his. A groan of desire rippled up through his body, trembled against her as her free hand drifted down his back to cup his ass cheek. He had to be dreaming but if this was a dream he prayed he would never wake.

They made love slowly. In complete and utter silence. What would have felt weird and incongruous with anyone else felt so natural with T'Pol. Whatever she wanted she could have. Instinctively she knew this anyway yet she did not take advantage of him. Rather they moved in a carefully respectful manner, hearts and minds automatically tuning in to what the other wanted. What they needed. Each intent on providing it. His heart was so open with joy. The unexpected robbinig him of everything except the moment. There was only T'Pol. She knew. Sensed his utter concentration on her. Delved into his mind so gently, her body conforming to wishes unspoken. Her hands guiding him all the way to paradise. Bringing him to orgasm as she exploded in wet heat around him, her depths so filled with passion that he thought he would drown in it. Glorious oblivion. Liquid heat. The napalm of the heart. He had no idea when they had undressed or how many times they made love. It seemed endless. Their joy in each other a timeless gift. He lay on his back on her bunk, T'Pol sprawled over him, her soft sighs matching his. Eyes full of a thousand meanings but only one promise. He could not bear to speak of it in case the act of bringing it into common speech crushed something too delicate and fragile to be born aloud.

"So," He said softly, his lips caressing her cheek with kisses. His lips quirking in amusement as his eyes danced gently. "What did you want to see me about?"

She took her time answering him. Not wanting to spoil the mood. "I was concerned for you."

He thought about that. His heart flip flopping and turning over with joy. That meant she cared. He kissed along her jawline, the fingers of his right hand touching the planes of her face in wonder. Mapping her so that his heart would always remember and cherish this moment. Eternity hung in the silence that bore her name. It took forever for him to remember that she had spoken. "Why were ya worryin'?"

Her lips now trailed his cheek, slowly inching towards his ear. She licked his earlobe. He shivered slightly. "You were so upset about the play. I was surprised. Worried." The tongue flicked out and began to languidly outline the shell of his ear. Her wetness making him horny all over again.

"Uh, oh God T'Pol, keep doin' that and I'm gonna forget ma own name."

She paused. He regretted his words instantly. "Why were you upset?"

Inwardly he groaned. He did not want this conversation. Not now. Not ever. But he could deny her nothing. In this post-coitual state of bliss he had no resistance to her. "It's a long story, T'Pol. Don't wanna bore ya to death."

He felt her smile against his cheek, her tongue resuming its' path around his ear, her warm breath huffing gently into his ear canal deepening his shiver. "You will not bore me, Trip."

_Trip. She called me Trip_ Inwardly he celebrated. "Okay, don't say I didn't warn ya..."

Her tongue slid oh so slowly into his ear canal. Wet warmth teasing. He fought to keep control, to concentrate on telling her what she wanted to know. "I was just a kid. School plays were supposed to be fun." He paused as a shudder shook him. Her tongue was all the way inside his ear now, his body was reacting strongly but he pressed on. Eyes closed now to hang on to a semblance of control. Trying not to follow the movements of her hands as she set fire to his flesh. "Most of the plays were fun. Ya know, nothin' too difficult. But Shakespeare," He shuddered and felt himself hardening again. A hand sliding between their bodies so she could hold and caress him. The air in his lungs fighting to remain calm for her. Not to take the lead from her. This was her call. His body. Her hands. "Shakespeare was somethin' else. Talk about complicated..."

That gifted hand was caressing him now. So gently that he could still manage to form words. _Just_. Vulcan or not, there was no denying that T'Pol was gifted.

"Even the way they talk was a tongue twister. All that dark broodin' and intensity. I'm not sayin' it wasn't clever but give me somethin' straight forward ev'ry time."

"What happened?"

He tried to stop the sigh but she still felt it. She felt 'everything'. His thoughts. His feelings. Every tiny betrayal of his wired body. And she luxuriated in slowly breaking down his control. Not all at once but incrementally. Piece by subtle piece. She had waited too long to rush now. Allowing him the space to breathe, to form words after a fashion, but not quite hang on to his sanity. She savoured everything. Bathed in the beauty of his gentle mind, his acquiessent body, his tenderness and caring touching her on so many levels that it was beyond erotic. She wanted him. Not only now but always. Did he know? Would she tell him?

* * *

The recreation room looked nothing like it had once done. Gone was the stark functionality. The harsh angular lighting of an on/off switch. Lt Malcolm Reed had finally managed to track down Commander Tucker. It had taken him almost a week and he had seriously begun to think his earlier pressure on the Commander had damaged their friendship forever. To his joy and amazement, the Commander had been in a good mood. Had listened to everything he had to say including his apology for trying to railroad him into getting up on stage.

"So what you're askin'," Drawled the Commander in mild amusement. "Is for my professsional help?"

The lieutenant nodded. "Yes."

"Things like a stage, props and so on?"

He nodded. "Exactly."

"Just so long as you don't expect me to get up on stage and perform for ya?"

Lt Reed gave him a solemn look and shook his head. As if making a promise set in stone. Commander Tucker was surprised by how serious he looked. "I promise I won't pressurise you into anything, Commander. I want your help and if that means in the practical sense then I'll more than happily accept it. However, if you should change your mind about wanting to be in the play..."

Commander Tucker laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I'll help, Malcolm. Anythin' ya want except actin'. Good enough?"

The Armoury Officer looked at his friend. The relief on his face self evident. Not even the bard was worth losing one of his best friends over. "Good enough, Commander."

Now he was looking at the results. A beautiful single level stage with movable sections that could be contorted and rearranged to form several different props and backdrops. Engineering had outdone themselves. The witches cauldron held centre stage while to his surprise Dr Phlox had come up with a means for creating the mist and fog. Lt Anna Hess had turned out to be a very accomplished seamstress with Hoshi showing an uncanny eye for colour co-ordination in the making of the costumes. Malcolm did not want it to be too elaborate besides which his knowledge of Elizabethan dress was limited to old films and what he had read in the archives. Still, tradition had to be served otherwise it was not worth doing. All that remained was the lighting. He looked up and smiled. Trip was sitting on a beam fitted high above the stage. It spanned the length of the stage. Carefully he was fitting a bank of lights with filters that Dr Phlox had made up especially for the purpose. Young Toby Weiss was sitting at one end of the beam next to the metal ladder tentatively handing Trip the tools he needed. Trip paused after fitting the central light and wriggled along the beam towards Toby. Half the lights were now in place. Toby grinned at him. Eyes shining with excitement.

"I've never seen a play before, Chief."

Trip smiled. "Then you're in for a treat, Toby. If there's one thing I can guarantee ya about Malcolm, it's that he's thorough. Never known anyone like him for bein' so picky but it's what makes him such a good armoury officer."

"Is that why you're such a good engineer?"

He shot Crewman Weiss a quick look to see if he was being mocked. All he saw was the innocence of youth. His smile became a grin. "There's nothin' wrong with bein' thorough."

Just then the beam yawed. Trip clung on and looked at Toby's face. The young man had gone pale. He did not like heights at the best of times. Trip nodded to the metal ladder moulded into the wall behind the Crewman. "Stand on the ladder Toby."

The young man did not move. "I'm okay, Chief."

Trip's voice hardened. "That's an order, Crewman!"

He watched the boy wriggle the half yard back to the ladder and step onto it. Even though he did not want to leave the Chief Engineer swaying on the beam he felt a hundred times happier the moment his feet were on the solid rung. "Maybe we should finish this another day, Chief?"

The Commander shook his head. "We're halfway through, Toby. Just give me another half hour and we'll be done."

In the event they did not have another half hour. Below them, Malcolm was directing Captain Archer through his paces while one of the witches cried out "Hail, Thane of Cawdor!"

No sooner had the words left her lips than a sudden loud creaking noise caused everyone to look up. Toby Weiss looked in horror as the beam lurched, one stay fraying and snapping as he watched wide eyed with terror. For a moment Trip hung on to the beam and it looked as if tragedy had been averted. Trip had time only to yell out a warning to those below going through their dress rehearsal. Figures ran for cover. Another creaking sound then Trip yelled. Toby's eyes widened in terror, his hands reaching out though he knew he could do nothing. Was too far away to reach the end of the beam as it tilted at an impossible angle as the rest of the streel stays broke. The beam, the lights, and Commander Tucker plummeting to the floor. The crash punctuated by a single agonised scream before silence engulfed the horrified hall.

* * *

Sub-Commander T'Pol had been meditating. The frenzied calm on board Enterprise had amused her greatly. She was intrigued by how the preoccupation with Lt Reed's play had energised the entire crew. Those not taking a part on stage were busy working behind the scenes. All sorts of interesting information came out of the exercise. Not only had she learnt about Hoshi's passion for colour but she had also discovered what an accomplished artist she was. Anna Hess was a wizard with a needle and thread, Travis had a natural ability with wood and had carved and designed many of the wooden props, helping engineering with the swinging sets. Dr Phlox had been excited at every stage of the play's development and T'Pol was convinced that should he be asked he would leap at the opportunity to 'tread the boards' as Lt Reed called it. All in all, the perculiar activity was both amusing, interesting and impressive. The Captain was right. This was _exactly_ what the crew needed. Then something interrupted the calm serenity of her thoughts. Her eyes sprang open in alarm. Trip!

She moved on feet that barely touched the ground. Not even needing to know _where_ he was or what had happened. All she knew was that he was hurt. In pain. He needed her and she needed to know he was alright. Nothing else mattered. She burst into the recreation hall and hesitated only a moment. Long enough to see where he was, what had happened. The place was crammed with people. She could hear Dr Phlox but not see him. A big heavy wooden beam spanned the stage area. Her heart missed a beat. Trip! He was lying awkwardly as if his back had been twisted. Head back, eyes closed. She pushed through people, not taking the time to register any of the faces or their looks of surprise. Not caring what anyone thought she forced her way through them until she was able to kneel next to him. The beam had him pinned down. A thin trickle of blood leaked out of pallid lips. He had fallen on something and his body was at a strange unnatural angle. A loud groan propelled her hand to gently caress his cheek. His eyes flickered open, looking straight up. Not seeing her at first. Unfocused and glazed with pain.

"Trip, it's me T'Pol."

Slowly recognition filtered through the pain. "T'Pol?"

She bit back tears, her hand unconsciously stroking his cheek gently. Wanting to calm and comfort him in equal measure. Oblivious to the stunned expressions on the crew's faces. Where was Dr Phlox? Her head turned at a familiar voice. "T'Pol? How is Trip?"

It was Captain Archer. She had to blink when she looked at him. He was dressed in the oddest clothes. Then she remembered. The play. The stupid idiotic play. She frowned, trying to reign in her temper. "He is injured but I do not know how badly." She turned her head and looked passed him, her frown deepening. "Where is Dr Phlox?"

Trip groaned louder. She snapped her head round and looked at him with concern. "Trip? Try not to move but tell me where you feel the pain."

Captain Archer watched stupified. He had never heard such a tone in her voice before. So gentle, her touch tender, her eyes softening as they beheld his friend. Trip was struggling to speak, in obvious agony but wanting to comply with her wishes. Her hand calmed him, his eyes not leaving hers for an instant. What was going on? Since when had his Chief Engineer and Science Officer been so close? Or was he ascribing feelings to them that did not exist? Mistaking concern for something more intimate? Before he could come to any conclusion however premature a loud groan turned all heads back to the centre of attention. Only this time the groan had not come from Commander Tucker. He was trying to say something to T'Pol. She leaned close to him, her ear to his lips. She straightened in surprise then looked around. Faces slotting into recognition in her agile mind.

"We need to move the Commander. Carefully."

Ready hands moved to take up the strain on the heavy beam and lift it off him. Captain Archer lending his strength as he stepped next to Travis. Malcolm and Toby Weiss on the other end. As the beam shifted off him, Trip gave a loud sigh then groaned as something moved _under_ him. Carefully Captain Archer and the others moved Trip to one side, gently laying him on a flat piece of stage at T'Pol's direction. As they did so they heard a distinct huffing and a painful wheeze. Captain Archer turned his head and gave a startled look as Dr Phlox sat up. He looked annoyed and breathless but otherwise unhurt. It took the Captain a moment to find his voice and control the humour that threatened to break through. "Doctor, are you alright?"

Lt Reed crouched down next to the doctor and tentatively checked him over for any broken bones. He did not find any. "Apart from an interesting collection of bruises, I'd say you had a lucky escape doctor."

Dr Phlox looked amused. Captain Archer turned to see what the doctor was looking at and was shocked to see Trip sitting up, his arms wrapped around Sub-Commander T'Pol. Her hands guiding him into a deep passionate kiss. Seconds passed but they did not come up for air. The Captain flushed slightly. Well that at least answered _that_ question. He looked back at Lt Reed, unable to hide his amusement. "I think perhaps we should change the name of the play, lieutenant." At Malcolm's raised eyebrow he could not help but quip. "I think we should do _Romeo and Juliet_.

Gentle laughter greeted his words but both Trip and T'Pol were oblivious. Too lost in each other to realise that they had an audience. Who needed a play when you could have the real thing?


End file.
